The Cost of Commitment - KJ2 (7 page)

“That sounds perfect, sweetheart. I’d love that.”

“I’ll get in touch with her to see whether she’s willing to officiate, and if so, when she and the chapel might be available. Oh, darling, I can’t wait.” She snuggled into Kate’s embrace, the safety and security of those arms the only home her soul would ever need.

The Cost of Commitment

t was shortly after 7:00 a.m. on a mid-October morning, and Jay sat Iin her customary seat on the Amtrak train headed from Albany to Grand Central Station in New York City. Although she held a book open in her lap, she barely glanced at it, her mind wandering as she regarded the passing landscape. The ride along the Hudson River was always scenic, but never more so than at this time of year, when the leaves were changing colors in preparation for their winter shedding. The riots of red, orange, yellow, and green were a sight to behold.

She sighed. Despite the beauty of her surroundings, she was troubled.

It was hard to remember the last time Kate had gotten a full night’s sleep.

Ruefully, Jay thought,
It was probably just before she took this job,
which is to say,
way
too long ago.
The hours alone were clearly taking a toll on her partner, but even more disconcerting was the suspicious circumstances and innuendo swirling just beneath the surface at DOCS.

Had it been
her
integrity or credibility being called into question, Jay would have been far less concerned. But to have the media, and by extension, the general public attack Kate made Jay’s blood boil. It was all so absurdly ridiculous. Anyone who knew Kate knew she was the most upright, fair, scrupulously honest person on the planet, didn’t they? The hardest part, though, was that there wasn’t a thing Jay could do to help except to be supportive, offer an ear and a different perspective, and express her outrage at the situation.

As for her own job, perhaps Kate was right; maybe what Jay needed to do was to try pitching her editor a story of her own. Heaven knew the ones she’d been covering lately had been less than groundbreaking.

By the time the train had pulled into the station, she had made up her mind: she would talk to Trish first thing.

Lynn Ames

Jay found the editor sitting in her office with the phone to one ear, an assistant talking in the other, papers strewn across the surface of her sizable, modern workspace, and her head resting in the palm of one hand, fingers splayed through already disheveled light brown hair. Trish rolled her eyes and mimed to her ace reporter to sit in one of the visitors’ chairs in front of the desk.

“No, Chad, I don’t care if he has to crawl in here, I’m not gonna accept another lame excuse. I want that story on my desk by noon today, got it? Good.” She slammed the receiver down without waiting for a response.

“Have you ever noticed, Trish, that your New York accent gets more pronounced the louder you yell?”

“Can’t say as I’ve paid that little tidbit any mind, Jamison. But now that you mention it, I’ll be sure to keep an eye on the situation.” Sharing the usual banter with her favorite writer always managed to calm her considerable temper. Jay had that effect on everyone, Trish suspected.

“What can I do for you, other than provide your amusement for the day?”

Jay shifted in her chair, suddenly feeling slightly foolish about her desire to ask for better assignments. “Um, you know I’m grateful for the way you’ve supported me these past few months, right?” When Jay had, of her own accord, revealed to Trish that she was the other woman in the
National Enquirer
picture, the editor had stood by her without hesitation.

“Yeah.” The editor drew the word out. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Jay this uncomfortable, not even when she had outed herself earlier in the year. “It sure sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

“It does?”

“Mm-hmm. Out with it, Parker. You can’t even look me in the eye.”

Jay peeked up from where she had been staring at the hands in her lap.

“Ohmigod.” Trish knew a moment of sudden panic. “Please don’t tell me you’re leaving.”

“What? No, of course not. Why on earth would you think that?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve only ever seen you look this uncomfortable once before, and I can’t imagine what could be bigger than that, except maybe a new job. So please, tell me whatever it is already before I have a heart attack.”

“It’s nothing like that, Trish. It’s just...” Jay paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. “The stories I’ve been doing lately have been less than inspiring. I guess I’m just getting a bit restless. I know it sounds stupid, but—”

“Oh, Jay, I’m sorry.” Relief coursed through the editor. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. Truth is, I’ve been trying to keep you close to
The Cost of Commitment

home so you and that gorgeous woman of yours could have some time to get used to living together and establish a sense of normalcy.”

“Really?” Jay was touched by her friend’s thoughtfulness.

“Yeah, really. Guess I shoulda talked to you about it first, huh?”

“That’s all right. I didn’t understand. I thought maybe I’d done something to get on your bad side and that’s why I was getting all the lousy assignments.”

Trish laughed, a deep, throaty sound that prompted Jay to join in.

“Nah, kiddo, if you’d been on my bad side, believe me, you wouldn’t have had to wonder—you would’ve known it. Here I was trying to do you a favor, and all you can do is bitch about it.”

Jay’s trademark smile was back. “I’m not complaining, Trish, just looking for an upgrade, that’s all.”

“Does Kate know you’re tired of spending every night with her already?” The editor was thankful that the problem wasn’t anything serious and overjoyed to yank her friend’s chain about it.

“Actually, she kicked me out the door this morning—wanted to know when you were going to get me out of her hair.” Jay winked.

“Well, far be it for me to disappoint that woman. After all, I hear she has connections in dark and dreary places.” Trish consulted her ever-present storyboard. “Okay. It’s action you want, eh? I think we can do something about that...”

“Hi, baby. The honeymoon’s over.”

“Um, Jay? Don’t we have to be married before you can say that?”

“Well, normally I’d say yes, but in this case...”

“Have I done something wrong?”

“Quite to the contrary you beautiful, sexy woman.”

“Okay, now I’m really lost.”

“Katherine Kyle, you’re a genius, and if I were there, I’d give you a big, wet kiss.”

“I can live with that, but what does all this have to do with our honeymoon?”

“You were right pushing me to talk to Trish. Seems she’s been intentionally keeping me close to home so you and I would have more time together.”

“I knew I liked that woman.”

“Ahem. But now that she knows I’m itching for good stories...”

Kate sighed. “I’ve shot myself in the foot, haven’t I?”

Jay laughed. “Pretty much.”

“Where’re you headed, Scoop?”

Lynn Ames

“There’s an upstart AIDS awareness political action group: the AIDS

Coalition to Unleash Power.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Right, smart girl, which is why they go by the name ACT UP.

They’re just starting to make some serious waves and Trish wants someone on the inside to chronicle their rise.”

“Cool acronym. You’re going undercover? As an activist? Oh, that could be fun. Jay as a zealot. Very sexy.”

“Very funny, Stretch. Keep it up and I might just have to cut you off.”

“C-cut me off? You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.”

“Do you really want to find out, hot stuff?”

“Jay, sweetheart, honey, doll? This assignment sounds perfect for you.”

“That’s better.” Jay’s laughter faded. “Actually, I’m not going undercover at all, I’m just going to shadow the group and its leaders—

learn about their tactics and philosophy—talk to them.”

“That sounds like it should be really interesting, baby.”

“I think so, too. Honey, the downside is that I’m going to have to stay here in New York for a little while.”

Kate tried to hide her disappointment. Jay’s talents had been wasted in the past few months on second-rate stories that didn’t challenge her considerable intellect, leaving her restless and frustrated. The assignment was just what she needed to get her out of her funk. “Well, sweetheart, that’s why you kept your apartment in New York. At least you’ll be comfortable while you’re working and not stuck in some generic hotel room.”

“Thank you for understanding, Kate. I wish you could be here with me.”

“That would be fun, but there are pressing matters here I have to attend to.” Kate thought about the cryptic phone call she’d gotten from Wendy Ashton of the Associated Press half an hour earlier. She was scheduled to meet her in a parking garage downtown after dark, and she hadn’t a clue why. The reporter had refused to say over the phone and sounded downright panicked when Kate tried to push her on the matter.

She returned her attention to Jay. “Do you want me to send Fred down to keep you company?”

“No, Kate. He’ll be much happier up there with you. I’ll be fine. Call you tonight?”

“Absolutely. I’ll tuck you in and put you to sleep.”

“Don’t forget the warm milk and cookies, Mom.” Jay’s chuckle echoed down the phone line as she hung up.

The Cost of Commitment

“Hello, Wendy.” Kate considered making a joke about reporters having clandestine meetings with sources in dark parking garages when she got a good look at the woman approaching her. She was gaunt, her razor-sharp features made even more pronounced by stress. Her navy slacks and tan blazer were rumpled, and her salt-and-pepper hair was in disarray. While Wendy Ashton wasn’t the sharpest dresser or the neatest person she knew, Kate recognized her disheveled appearance as being out of character.

“Kate. Thanks for meeting me here like this.” The reporter’s eyes darted around the garage.

“What’s going on, Wendy? You look out of sorts.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t usually have assholes threatening to toss me out of the closet.”

“Who?” Kate was instantly alert.

“Your lovely predecessor, that’s who,” she spat out.

“Breathwaite threatened to out you as a lesbian?”

“Yep.” The reporter took a deep breath, apparently satisfied that they were alone. “It was the strangest thing. I get a call at my desk at around 2:30 this afternoon and it’s him. He starts off wanting to know what I think about the job you’re doing at DOCS.”

Kate tried to look surprised for propriety’s sake, but the truth was that Breathwaite blackmailing reporters into writing damaging stories was exactly the scenario she and Peter had surmised. Perhaps now they would get closer to finding out the rest of his game.

The reporter continued, “I thought that was pretty odd, so I pulled out my tape recorder and plugged it into the line. I figured he’s always up to something, and whatever he had up his sleeve this time, I wanted to be prepared.”

“Good thinking.”

Wendy smiled weakly. “Thanks, but there was no way I was ready for this.” She pulled a small microcassette recorder out of her blazer pocket and pressed the “play” button.

“So, ah, here’s the thing.” Breathwaite’s nasal twang filled the air between Kate and Wendy. “What if I told you Kyle wasn’t telling you everything about what happened yesterday with that officer at Coxsackie?”

“I’m listening.”

“What if I told you she regularly leaves out facts, the net result being that you look like a fool, your ass hanging in the breeze.”

“If that were true, why in the world would you tell me? Aren’t you and Kate on the same side of the equation?”

“Perhaps I just want to help you.”

Lynn Ames

The reporter’s taped laughter echoed loudly in the stillness of the dark concrete structure.

“David, you’ve never cared about anyone but yourself. So why don’t you get to the point and tell me what this is really about and stop wasting both of our time.”

“Listen to me, you two-bit dyke,” he hissed, “I can end your career in less than the time it takes you to turn on your tape recorder.”

“What do you want, you slimebag?”

“I want you to write a story that will be carried wide—every major daily in the state, and radio, too. I want you to discredit Kyle.”

“Or?”

“Or I will out you in spectacular fashion to your bosses, your peers, every news outlet worldwide. I’ll get you so much ink you won’t be able to find a job taking out the trash. Oh, and your lovely girlfriend? I’m sure all of the attention will sit well with her father the ultraconservative congressman.”

“You prick.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

“What kind of story are you looking for?”

“It has to be something that will end her fledgling career as a PIO.”

“It will take me time to put something like that together.”

“You have seventy-two hours. Good-bye, Wendy. I’ll be in touch.”

“Wait!”

“Yes?”

“What’s in it for you, Breathwaite?”

“That’s of no concern to you, Ms. Ashton. Just take care of business.”

The dial tone turned to a faint hiss.

“My, isn’t he just the charmer.” Kate forced a smile. “Why are you sharing this with me?”

“Because you’ve always dealt fairly with me. Because I know what you went through, and I would be the last one on Earth to put you through yet another undeserved professional hardship. Because I like you. But most of all because it pisses me off to be blackmailed, especially by a twerp like Breathwaite.”

“Fair enough. What are you going to do?”

“I haven’t figured out a game plan yet. But I’m going to take him down if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I can’t say I’d shed a tear if that happened, but I’m not sure that’s the best course of action for the immediate future.”

“What? Kate, I like what I do. If I don’t take him down, I either have to go along with him, which puts you in jeopardy, or I get outed and lose my job.”

The Cost of Commitment